


Identity Crisis

by BFab



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, Fluff, Ghosts, Hunter Dean, M/M, New Relationship, New vessel, declaration of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-14 22:50:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1281673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BFab/pseuds/BFab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is thinking about a vessel change to get Dean's attention, Sam and Dean work a ghost case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cas Checks Out Some Chicks

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fanfic attempt, I hope you like it!

Castiel is distracted. Granted, he’s not usually 100% “present”, what with angel radio playing in his head and general catastrophe around every corner coming from Heaven, Hell, and Earth, but today it’s like he’s not even noticing the Winchester brothers sitting at the diner table with him. Sam has his laptop open, distractedly stabbing his salad with his fork while he skims over the twelve different tabs he has open on the browser, trying to trace a source back to the sudden rash of ghost attacks in this town. 

Dean is focused on his burger, it seems like they’ve been chasing ghosts nonstop for days and all they’ve had time for is a quick snack on the go here and there; he is HUNGRY. And frustrated; they still don’t have any great leads. The attacks seem random; all over town, affecting people with no relation or apparent connection to each other. Except they all died from smoke inhalation and burns- with no fire damage to their homes save some slight singeing around the bodies. 

They’ve already been to the morgue but there wasn’t much info; Men, women, different ethnicities, different ages, nothing obvious connecting any of them. They’d hit dead end after dead end, and before they could get any leads or info another body would show up. It was frustrating as hell.

“There’s a bunch of construction for a new shopping center near the river on the south side of town,” Sam says suddenly, leaning forward and practically buzzing with new information, “they broke ground five weeks ago-”

“Right around the time all this weird crap started happening,” cuts in Dean. “Yeah, we’ll check it out tomorrow, see what you can find out about the area in the meantime. We’ll head back to the room and come up with a plan, gather supplies, whatever.” Mostly he was thinking about a hot shower and laying down for a couple hours. His eyes felt gritty and hot- he was exhausted.

The waitress stops by to check on them and refill drinks (and give Dean a good look up and down), and Cas stares at her with that disconcerting squint of his. Her smile falters, what is with this guy? “Are you sure you don’t want anything, sugar? A glass of water, a coffee?” 

“No, thank you,” glancing at her name tag, “Beth. I have no need of beverages. And my name is Castiel, not Sugar. Did Dean tell you that’s what it was? He sometimes plays jokes, though I can’t say I always understand them.”

“No it’s just… something I say…” she trails off as she walks away, shaking her head slightly. Castiel doesn’t stop staring, he seems to be examining her as she helps another table. The brothers glance at each other, then to Cas, sharing a joke between them with a look. Sam smirks, returning to his laptop and Dean laughs, picking up his burger. “I’ve gotta say Cas, you’ve got a real way with the ladies. Way to turn on the charm.”

Castiel looks at Dean, confused. “She didn’t seem very responsive…” then he recognized the glint in Dean’s eye and realized he was being sarcastic. He was getting better at recognizing Dean’s sarcasm; the hunter has a particular cheeky gleam in his green eyes when he’s teasing Castiel. The angel nods slightly, acknowledging the joke, and goes back to… wherever his mind is wandering.

After that exchange, the older Winchester notices how quiet Cas is being and starts to pay attention. The angel never was what one would call forthcoming, but he is extra spacey today. He notices that Cas is doing a lot of staring- really creepy staring- at women. Does he realize how jarring his bright blue eyes can be? Dean wonders if Jimmy Novak’s eyes were ever that blue. He suspects that Angel Castiel shines through a bit, changing the shade to something… otherworldly. It’s downright distracting sometimes. And what is it with angels never needing to do laundry or change their clothes? That’s weird, he wonders sometimes how that works. And how much time he could save by not having to worry about human things like laundry and showers. Or sleep. He knows he’s getting pretty smelly himself, and thinks again about a hot shower and a bed. Any horizontal surface would do at this point, actually. He gives himself a sharp shake of the head. _Focus_. Looks like Cas isn’t the only spacey one at the table.

Cas seems to be searching for something, but what? He’s looking at every woman nearby; tall, short, blonde, brunette, curvy, rail thin, it doesn’t seem to matter. What is he up to? Dean scans the room, trying to sense a threat. No, Cas would’ve told him if he needed his guard up. He grunts, shaking his head again, and turns his attention back to his burger. He’ll have to ask him about it later; after Dean has eaten and gotten a few hours of sleep.

After their meal Castiel mumbles some general “things to look into” excuse and pops off. The hunters assume he’s off on some mysterious angel business, but he actually goes to a restaurant in town to people watch. It’s one of the nicer places in this small town, full of couples for Friday date night. All around the restaurant there are held hands, foreheads together, glances through eyelashes and stolen kisses in the dim lighting. Castiel sits quietly, unmoving, observing and unnoticed in his basic suit and tan coat.


	2. Sam Goes to the Library, Dean Takes a Shower, Cas gets "The Talk"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel tries to ask Dean about women.

The Winchester brothers are in yet another dingy motel room for the night. This one has dark hunter green carpet, tan bedspreads, and paintings of ducks on the wall. The local news is on the tv, volume low, picture fuzzy. Nothing interesting- some fluff piece about the high school choir making it to regionals. “Nerds,” Dean scoffs under his breath as he makes salt lines at the windows. Sam rolls his eyes with a small smile; he’s heard Dean singing in the shower; not even his big brother can keep up that gruff personality 24/7. 

Sam has the small table in the room crowded; he’s filling spare flasks with holy water, making sure their guns are all loaded, and counting their rounds. “We need to make some more salt rounds tonight,” he says, “and I was going to try and stop by the library.”

“Library is closed, Sammy-” Dean grumbles-

“I know,” his younger brother interrupts, cutting off the inevitable comment about him being a geek or a nerd or a bookworm or whatever, “the librarian wasn’t exactly friendly and wouldn’t let me see any of the old maps or records. Says they’re too delicate and I have to have ‘special privilege’ to handle them.” He shrugs his broad shoulders like he’s offended. He is a little- what did that lady think, he was going to start knocking over bookshelves and tearing out pages? He knows how to handle documents. He’s handled things more delicate and more important than she could even imagine, but she won’t even let him look at a couple old maps?

“Why didn’t you just badge her?” 

“I thought it was going to be a simple library run, I didn’t think I’d have trouble getting access to anything so I didn’t have it on me. This will be easier anyways; I’ll get in, do my research, and get out. No cranky librarian glaring at me or peering over my shoulder. A little privacy.”

“Alright well can you stop by the store and pick up some more salt? And grab some beers, too. Then you can have all the alone time you want with your books and maps and things.”

Sam heads out with a duffel over his shoulder and his lock-picking kit in his pocket. He’ll be gone for a while- he tends to lose track of time when he’s researching. Dean will be surprised if he even remembers to stop for supplies. Alone in the hotel room, he starts getting ready for bed; stowing his gun to the side of his mattress and putting a knife or three under his pillow. After checking his salt lines one more time he jumps in the shower to scrub off the grime. Surprisingly, this grungy little motel has pretty decent water pressure, even if he does have to duck down to get his head under the running water. He stays under the steaming stream longer than he usually allows himself, letting the hot water loosen the knots along his shoulders, finally relaxing for a minute after days of being on edge constantly. He comes out of the bathroom, hair dripping, towel around his hips, to find Cas sitting at the only chair in the motel room. 

“Damn it, Cas, warn a guy, will ya? Try texting before you just pop in, or maybe even knock. Come on.” He snatches his clean clothes off the bed and stalks back into the bathroom to dress.

Castiel says nothing, just waits in the chair. Dean gets grumpy when he’s surprised and there’s not much to say to him. He’s not sure why Dean is upset; they’ve talked before about boundaries and closed doors, and that’s why Castiel waited in the chair in the room instead of just landing right in the bathroom. Better to just wait him out, give him a minute to compose himself. The hunter stomps out of the bathroom, pulling his t-shirt on and then running a hand through his short hair, scattering water droplets across his shoulders and dampening his shirt, “what's up Cas? Sammy is out, is something going on?"

"I'm aware that Sam isn't here. I came to talk to you, Dean. I wanted to discuss something with you privately.” Castiel is sitting very still in his chair. 

Dean has a moment of panic, thinking there’s something wrong with Sam (again), or wrong with Cas (again) and scenarios start reeling through his mind. He bounds across the room and suddenly he’s hovering over Cas, radiating concern, “what is it, what’s going on? How do we kill it?” he half growls, searching Cas’ face.

“Nothing is wrong, Dean” Castiel says slowly, staring up into green eyes and almost losing his nerve. He sets his mouth in a line, steeling himself, before continuing, “I was hoping we could discuss attraction.” Dean squints, confused, “women,” Castiel adds in a beat too late. “I wanted to discuss your attraction to women. In general. Attraction to women in general. As a human,” he finishes awkwardly, distracted by Dean’s proximity. He’s mere inches away; eyes locked on Castiel’s, hair glistening and not quite dry, lips slightly parted.

After an uncomfortable pause with their faces so close together, neither one moving, Dean breathes out a laugh, straightens up, and says, "Are you looking for some action Cas? I saw you checking out every girl who walked past in the diner earlier; you feeling a little lonely?" Dean grins, wagging his eyebrows. His smile is a little too stiff, his eyes a little too tight, but he tries to play off the joke, plopping down to sit on the edge of the bed across from Cas in the chair.

“I know you are fond of women,” Cas continues, either ignoring or not understanding Dean’s joke attempt, “and I was wondering how you select your potential mates. If you had any particular… preferences in the way of appearance.” Now that they’d broken eye contact the angel couldn’t seem to bring himself to look Dean in the face again.

Dean stares for a minute, half a smirk frozen on his face, trying to figure out just what the hell this feathery son of a bitch was up to. “Ah, listen buddy, it’s been a hell of a long week and I know you don’t need to sleep but I do every now and then. Right now I’m seeing two of you and I don’t know what you’re getting at but make sure you use protection.” He was so not ready for this conversation right now, and he was way too tired to try and figure out what Cas was trying to get at.

Castiel cocks his head at that, hand going towards the angel blade in his inside coat pocket-

“Condoms,” Dean says hurriedly. “If you’re gonna be picking up women make sure you grab some condoms. Now I need to get some shut eye. Go find yourself a girl or take care of whatever it is you’ve been thinking about all night, no need for any of that ‘watching over me’ crap. I’ll see you in the morning.” He puts his hands on his knees and stands up, striding across the room to turn off the bathroom light and make it look like he was done talking and ready for bed. Castiel leans forward, intending to tell Dean of his plan, when they hear a key turning in the lock. 

Sam walks in to the whooshing sound of wings and finds the room empty save Dean, who is blushing and fidgeting. "Did Cas just leave?" he asks his brother, scanning the room even though he knows the angel is gone and closing the door behind him.

"Huh? Uh, yeah. He ah... Just stopped in for a second and when I told him you were out and we didn't have any new info he left again." Dean is stalking around the room, fixing the salt line by the door, double checking the gun by his bed is loaded, and running his hand through his hair distractedly. 

"Hey, you ok man?" Sam asks

"What?" Dean spins suddenly to face him, "yeah, I'm fine, I'm tired," he grumbles, and lays down on his bed to make his point. 

"Right, yeah, me too," Sam says, squinting at his brother and considering. He knows something is up, something between Dean and the angel, but if he tries to pry Dean will just clam up and get pissed off so he decides to leave it alone for the night. "I'm gonna take a quick shower before turning in," he mumbles, and shuffles towards the small bathroom. As the bathroom door clicks shut behind Sam, Dean notices that he forgot the beer.

A few minutes later Sam is back in the room, dressed and rubbing a towel through his hair, "We'll suit up tomorrow, go check out the construction site, see if we can find anything..."

But when he looks at the other bed, Dean is softly snoring.


	3. The Boys Get a Lead on the Ghost Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunters get a lead on the ghost case

The brothers are up bright and early the next morning, boring suits on and fake badges in their pockets. They hop in the Impala and Sam fills Dean in on the way to the construction site.

“So it turns out there used to be a big manor house out here, The Shipton Manor.” Sam says animatedly- he always got geeky about historical stuff like this, “The family was powerful, and they were actually responsible for a lot of the development of the town when it was first established. Historically, they were all pretty reclusive and private. The last surviving member, Margot Shipton, never married and never left the property. She died in a fire a little over 50 years ago, and the whole house burned down. She was the last one, no family or any meaningful connections at all that I can tell.” he runs out of steam. All this information and still a dead end.  
“So we assume this Margot chick is the ghost behind these attacks, but how the hell is she getting around? I mean, she died in a fire. Her body burned, there shouldn’t be anything hanging around. So what the hell?” Dean was half yelling at this point- he didn’t like not knowing what they were looking for or dealing with. “What is connecting these people to her? Have any of the victims been wandering around a haunted house?”

“No,” Sam said, “there really wasn’t much left standing on the property. A fireplace here, a doorway there. Nothing really to explore. Plus we’ve been here for almost a week looking into this and no stories have popped up about the old place being haunted. It seems like it’s just been forgotten out here for fifty years, until construction started. But none of the victims are connected to the construction or anything, I can’t figure it out.”

Dean drummed his fingertips on the wheel of the Impala in thought, staring out towards the road and pursing his lips a little. “Okay,” he started, almost to himself, “so we know what woke her up. They’re clearing away what’s left of her home. But what pissed her off enough to attack people? And how the HELL is she getting around town?” he growled at the road.

Sam glances over, putting his hands up in a slight surrender gesture, “Hey, we’ll figure it out. Let’s just get there and see what they’ve found.” It’s not like Dean to get worked up like this over a case; Sam’s mind flashes to Castiel for a second, but he shakes his head and goes back to focusing on the ghost and running through maps and documents in his mind.

Once they get to the site they flash their fake FBI badges. "I'm Agent Murdoch, this is my partner Agent Smith," Dean delivers smoothly, "we were coming to investigate, see if the construction had turned up any... artifacts from the Shipton Estate. We're here to make sure that anything of value that was found makes it to the proper channels for distribution now that the estate has been dissolved." 

The site foreman misses most of his shpiel while he stares open-mouthed at their badges for a minute. He shakes his head slightly, "I'm sorry Agent, what was that again?" Once Dean repeats himself the foreman starts sweating and fidgeting, looking around nervously. Dean looked up at his little brother (he didn't care if he did have to look up at Sammy, he was still his little brother) and they had a quick conversation with their eyes. 

"Look," Sam cuts in smoothly, stepping forward while Dean steps back, letting him take over in the "good cop" role here, "we aren't trying to get anyone in trouble. Because of the way the estate dissolved after the previous owner's death, this was government property and any artifacts that are found may need to be reclaimed. We think there may be a couple museum pieces that would be important to the history of the area. You won't be arrested, please let us know if you have any information."

The foreman adjusts his hard hat and looks over his shoulder, "ok come in my office," he mumbles, turning and walking quickly with his shoulders hunched and head down. Sam and Dean follow him into a small trailer with a cluttered desk and a window A/C unit that was working furiously to try and stir the hot air, but with little success. 

The foreman (Jim Corbin) plopped down in the folding chair behind his desk, sighing. "When we first got here and started clearing out the remnants of that old house and tearing up the foundation, we found a small safe under the floor. There was some jewelry in there; we took it to the pawn shop in town and sold it, split the money between a few of us guys." He looked back and forth between the two "FBI Agents," who were leaning forward intently and looking intimidating as hell, "look man, nobody said nothin' about finding anything because there wasn't supposed to be anything to find. A little extra money is always welcome and since nobody knew there was anything there, nobody would miss it..." He finished lamely. "I don't want to go to jail, man," he started pleading.

Dean interrupted him by setting a pad of paper on the desk with a thunk, "we're gonna need you to write down the name of that pawn shop, Mr. Corbin."


	4. Meet Bulldog

The black Impala, dusty and in need of a wash, pulls up to the local pawn shop. “Bet you we find a dude with long, greasy, gray hair and a leather vest,” Dean mutters to Sam as they approach the door, “it’s practically a pawn shop uniform.” Sam scoffs a bit, trying not to smile, and replies, “let’s just hope he has a shirt on under his vest.”

Dean was off the mark; the man’s greasy gray hair was short. And fortunately he had a grubby white t-shirt under his vest, so that was a plus. They flashed their badges and asked the man’s name. “Bulldog,” he responded shortly, crossing his arms to make his tattoos more prominent and puffing up his chest. “I’ve got a legal, clean establishment here Agents and I don’t know what it is you’re snooping around trying to find but you won’t-”

“Hey! Hey. Calm down,” Dean interjects, “”we’re not trying to mess with your business, we’re looking for something in particular. A Mr. Corbin told us that he sold you some jewelry he came across. We just wanted to find out who it has been sold to so we can track down the pieces.” 

Bulldog visibly relaxed- that box of jewelry gave him the willies for some reason and he wouldn’t be sorry to see it out of his shop for good. As long as he got proper compensation, of course. He can’t be taking hits like that; not good for business. “Yeah, gimme a sec,” he says, stepping into the back room for a minute to grab something from a shelf. He comes back and plops a small chest on the counter in front of the hunters. “I have a few pieces left, this is the box they came in,” he says, gesturing. “If you’ll give me a few minutes I’ll go through my receipts and let you know who bought stuff so far.”

Sam and Dean look suspiciously at the small chest that contains the ghosts’ jewelry, neither one really wanting to touch it. “It’s made of iron,” Sam observes, “if all the pieces were enclosed this whole time, she wouldn't have been able to get out. Once the pieces are removed from the iron, her spirit hitches a ride. I’ll bet we find our victims on those receipts.” 

Dean nods, frowning, “ok so we’ve found out how the bitch is getting around, but once we manage to get all this crap together, how do we destroy it? It’s not like we have a smelter lying around to melt all this.” Sam looked at him a little sideways, raising his eyebrows. “What? Yeah I know what a smelter is, I’ve been around, ok?” Sam just put his hands up and shook his head.

“All we need is a propane torch and somewhere to do the melting that won’t catch on fire,” Sam says. “Once we get these names I can start talking to the victims’ families while you head to the hardware store for what we need. You can destroy these pieces and we’ll take care of the others as we collect them.” He finished in a rush as Bulldog came back with a piece of paper in his hand; the list of purchasers. 

“Thanks, ah, Bulldog,” said Dean with a smile as he hefted the iron chest off the counter and turned to leave. He was interrupted by the pawn shop owner, “Hang on! Now I have no problem sending those things with you and I’ve been real cooperative with you Agents but that’s money out of my pocket and I need some compensation from the government for taking inventory out of my store,” he finished with a curt nod, crossing his arms. 

The brothers exchange a look, and Sam sighs, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a business card, “Here’s the number for our main office, call them and they’ll get the paperwork started to get you the money,” he says with a polite smile, “thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Bulldog.” and they walked out to the Impala, Dean toting the chest of jewelry. 

The boys head back to the hotel to stash the chest and so Sam could get online and find info and addresses for all of the people who purchased Margot Shipton’s jewelry. “So get this,” Sam says, looking over the list that Bulldog had given them, “There were eight purchases made so far-” “How many victims?” Dean interrupted. Sam sighed, he was just getting to that part, “Six. So that means we have at least two deaths waiting to happen, we need to get to them.” 

Dean nods, “ok do you want me to come with you?” 

“No, no,” Sam says, “I’ll be fine. You need to get started on destroying what we have so far…” he pauses for a minute, unsure of how his brother will react to his next subject, “hey, have you heard from Cas? He left in a rush last night, have you tried contacting him or anything now that we have some leads? Trying to get him back?”

Dean’s shoulders stiffen as soon as Cas’ name leaves Sam’s mouth and his knuckles turn white on the wheel for just a second. “No,” he croaks, then clears his throat, “I mean, we got this, right? Now that we figured all this crap out it’s just a run of the mill ganking a ghost, no biggie. Nah, we don’t need him for this,” they drive in silence for a minute; awkward silence, “Anyway so you go to the survivors today if you can, try and catch them before Margot comes to reclaim her gems. I’ll drop you off at the car rental place so you can get a boring FBI looking ride to make the house calls and then I’ll head to the hardware store and see what I can find for melting all this crap down. In the meantime I think I’ll dump some salt in that iron box of ours, to make sure ghostie doesn’t come visiting our motel room while we work.”

Sam just nods, taking mental note of Dean’s reaction and deciding to keep the Castiel talk at a minimum for now. Dean was right, after all; this was a pretty straightforward case now that they knew what they were looking for and they didn’t necessarily need the angel’s help, but his zapping holy powers sure came in handy sometimes. Mostly he wanted to know what happened between Castiel and his brother that was making Dean so jumpy and distracted. Did they get in a fight again? Was something wrong with Dean that he didn’t want Sam to know about? Sam was getting sick of the long looks and unsaid words; those two needed to just talk it out and figure out what the hell was going on between them. He hates being stuck in the middle when one (or both) of them turns all broody and weird, which has been happening more and more lately. Sam thinks back a week or two, when Cas showed up to help them out for a bit on a case and would only speak to Sam, just to stare holes through the back of Dean's head whenever he was turned away. He lets out a quiet sigh, rolling his eyes, and keeps his mouth shut for the rest of the drive to the car rental lot.


	5. Sweet Old Couples, SPENDER, "Hello Dean"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunters start collecting jewelry, Dean tries to sort through his feelings.

The Impala pulls into a dusty car lot, and out again as soon as Sam steps out of the car, buttoning his suit jacket. He makes his way to the small office to procure a rental car. A sensible one, with an iPod jack and decent gas mileage. He starts with the two people on the list that haven’t been connected to an attack yet, maybe he can get to them in time. After providing all of the necessary (forged) paperwork and credit card info he’s on his way in a nice sedan; mid-sized to fit his long legs, with nice quiet AC and plenty of air bags.

The first house is an elderly couple; the man bought his wife a necklace for their 40th wedding anniversary- a gold chain with a nice sized ruby pendant. Sam asks to see the piece, citing government need, historical significance, all that crap, and slips the necklace into a small bag filled with salt to keep the ghost dormant until he could get back to Dean and melt it down. Then he settles in at the dining room table with a glass of lemonade and listens to the sweet old couple tell him about their marriage while he smiles at them. After a good 30 minutes he excuses himself, thanks them for the hospitality, and lets them know who to call to fill out the form to get compensated for the necklace (he felt guilty about that part). Then it was off to the next house, salted necklace in his pocket.

The next guy purchased a pair of earrings; silver with opals. Sam ambles up the driveway past a Ford Thunderbird with a license plate reading “SPENDER” and knocks on the door, rolling his eyes. After a moment it’s answered by a young girl, maybe eight or nine years old. He asks after her parents, and her dad comes to the door. He’s a douchebag looking guy with slicked back hair and a cocky smirk; Sam can tell he’s used to getting what he wants. “Hello Mr. Davis, I’m Agent Smith. We’re tracking down a few jewelry pieces that have some historical significance to the area, the government is the legal property holder of those items and I’m collecting them to be evaluated and most likely placed in a museum archive. I understand that you recently purchased a pair of earrings-”

He’s cut off by Mr. Davis shushing him and stepping outside the front door, glancing over his shoulder nervously and closing the door behind him. “Listen,” he starts angrily, “I don’t know who you are or who hired you but I didn’t get any jewelry. There’s nothing in my house and no, you are not allowed to look unless you come back here with a warrant. Now please leave, I need to get back inside to my family.” At that he turned on his heel, stepping back into the house and all but slamming the door in the hunter’s face. Sam heard the deadbolt turn in the lock. He sighed and went back to his rental car, pulling out his phone to call Dean.

“Hey, I got the ruby necklace but the opal earrings were a bust. The guy freaked out when I asked about them; he said he doesn’t have them but something was definitely sketchy about him. I need to dig a little deeper and find out what he’s hiding.”

“Was his wife home?” Dean asks Sam. “Uh, yeah, I think so…” he replies and Dean nods to himself, “Dude’s got a mistress. The earrings aren’t in his house, but we need to find out who he’s seeing on the side, she’s in danger.” Sam thinks for a moment, and says “Hey are you back at the motel yet?” Dean says he is, and Sam tells him to wait for a little bit, he’ll be right over.

When Sam walks into the motel room, Dean has the TV pushed to one end of the dresser to make room for his hardware store purchases. A propane tank, a torch to fit it to, and an iron kettle. “I was just about to head out to the rocky area near the river so I could melt crap without setting anything else on fire,” he says. “That can wait,” Sam tells him, “I need to do a little digging on this Davis guy to see if I can find his mistress, and then I think I’ll need you with me to go talk to her. I don’t want to be going over there in the dark on my own, Margot will probably decide to show up and toast the girl and I could use some backup.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Dean says as Sam walks over to the small iron chest sitting on the table. He puts the ruby necklace into the salt with the rest of the pieces to keep them safe (that is, keep the brothers safe, not the jewelry). Sam plops himself down on his bed and opens up his laptop, and goes about his digging to find out more about this Mr. Davis and who he’s seeing outside his marriage. “We should stop by the morgue again, I remember seeing jewelry in at least one of the vics’ personal effects bag. That might save us a lot of driving around town; if they were all wearing the jewelry when they died we should be able to pick it all up at once.” Sam just nodded, jaw set and eyes focused on his laptop screen. He was in nerd mode.

Faced with unexpected downtime, Dean tries laying back on his bed and relaxing, but his mind won’t stop racing. Not about the case; they’ve figured that out and now it’s all about staying ahead of the ghost and getting every piece of jewelry that got scattered. It’s Cas. That freaking spacey, vague angel is pissing him off. Dean knows he’s mad, but can’t really explain why. It’s not like it’s a dangerous case, and he wasn’t lying when he said that they didn’t need Cas to help on this one. But he still doesn’t want him gone. At the same time, he doesn’t know if he could be in the same room as him right now. He’s so frustrated! When Sam looks at him quizzically over the top of his laptop screen Dean realizes he’s on his feet and pacing around the room. He stops dead, thinking frantically for an excuse, “uh, I’m gonna go find some pie. Do you want anything? Call me when you’ve got the info and you’re ready to go” He doesn’t wait for an answer from Sam as he rushes out the door, pulling his jacket on and checking to make sure his demon knife is in place in the inner pocket.

Dean stops by the diner for a slice of pie but not even french apple could calm him down. He even got a scoop of ice cream on top, but he was just as confused as ever. He has his cell phone; Sam will call him if he needs him. He drives out near the river (away from the Shipton Manor and the construction) looking for peace and quiet. He sits on the hood of his car, staring out over the water, trying to sort through his feelings. He thinks about their last conversation, talking about women, and feels rage creeping up his throat again. Why should it bother him? Cas is a free… angel, he can do whatever or whoever he wants. But Dean can’t shake the thought that he doesn’t want him to. He wants Cas with him, where he can keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t get himself into trouble. Could Dean be… jealous?

He hears a whoosh and all of a sudden, Cas is there, standing in front of him. “Hello Dean.”


	6. Blue Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean finally figure out what they hell they're feeling

Dean about falls off the hood of his car, “What the hell, Cas? What are you doing here?”

“You called me,” Cas answers, tilting his head and squinting at Dean, “did you not?”

“No I did not,” Dean started, then hesitated, “well maybe I did. On accident. I mean, I was thinking about you maybe some waves got out…” he stops, blushing and clearing his throat. “So we got this case figured out, we’re just hunting down a couple things and we’ve gotta melt some stuff and the ghost is ganked so ah, thanks for coming but I think we’ve got it handled.”

Castiel just stands there, hands at his sides, watching. He hadn’t gotten clear words from Dean over his prayer frequency, but he did get an intense wave of emotion that had him rushing over. Dean was hurt and scared, and Castiel wasn’t just going to leave him like this. 

“Hey, what was with our talk the other night?” Dean blurts out suddenly, “What were you getting at?”

The question gives Castiel pause; he wasn’t expecting that conversation to be the source of those emotions in Dean. Maybe it wasn’t, maybe Dean was trying to distract him and change the subject. He may as well go forward, he wants to talk this out with the hunter sometime, now is as good a time as any. “I just wanted to get to know you a little better, to learn what you look for in a potential mate,” he says, “like I stated before.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, “but why? I mean, if you want to talk women, why not ask Sammy too? Take a poll of more than one dude.”

“I don’t care about what Sam is interested in,” Cas says flatly. “I’m looking for someone… for you.”

“Hey man,” Dean starts angrily, “I don’t need any heavenly help getting a girl. If I’m interested, I do just fine on my own so thanks but no thanks.”

Cas hasn’t moved at all since he arrived; he’s standing in the same place, the same way. They stare at each other for a long moment, blue eyes and green eyes both searching for answers.

The angel in the trenchcoat breaks the silence, “I’m looking around for a new vessel,” he says, and snaps his mouth shut again after the words escape.

Dean is confused for a second- why is Cas changing the subject?- then he goes right into worry. He’s off the car and in front of Cas before he knows what he’s doing. “What is it? What’s wrong, are you hurt? Is your vessel breaking down?” He has the angel’s face in his hands, turning his head back and forth, looking in his eyes, trying to find an injury, looking for the telltale white/blue light coming from an angel’s injury, half expecting him to explode at any time.

Castiel is frozen for a moment; Dean is clouding his thoughts. His freckles are standing out because his face paled a bit with fear. They sprinkle over his nose and cheekbones; some humans believe that freckles were the marks leftover from angel kisses. A completely absurd idea, but Castiel’s mind wanders there now... When Castiel doesn’t respond right away the hunter takes him by the shoulders and shakes him, panicking, “Cas, talk to me! What’s wrong? Can you trust any of your angel buddies? Who should I pray to? Is there like, an angel doctor I can call?”

Castiel gently grasps Dean’s hands with both of his, removing them from his shoulders but not releasing them. “I am fine, my vessel is healthy. I just feel that perhaps a change might be in order. I have, after all, been a human male for almost my entire time on Earth. _This_ human male in particular,” he looks down at his boring suit and ill fitting coat, shrugging.

Dean is having a lot of trouble processing this, he feels like Cas is jumping around all over the place and he can’t keep up with the conversation. “So what, you just feel like switching teams?”

Cas rolls his eyes and sighs, like Dean is missing an obvious point "Technically angels don't have assigned genders, we're just... beings. I assume the gender of whatever vessel I occupy. This vessel has served me well but I don't have to stay... Jimmy. I could find someone else."

Dean just stared, his green eyes quizzical. 

Cas shifted his feet, shrugged his shoulders nervously in his tan coat. He was staring at his shoes, at the water, at anything but Dean. But he couldn't stop his eyes flitting to Dean's face every now and then, just for a fraction of a second, waiting to see if he'd realize what Cas was trying to tell him "I understand that this form may not be the most... appealing to you."

"'Appealing'? Cas, what the hell-"

"I just thought that a female vessel might be more to your liking." Cas spits out, locking his eyes onto Dean’s, desperate to see his reaction but terrified at the same time

The hunter is stunned into silence, mouth agape, mind working furiously. Could he mean-? Is he saying-? He wants to possess a woman? For… me? What would make him even consider… Dean glances down nervously and sees their still-clasped hands; jerks his out of Cas’. He turns away, rubbing his hands through his hair, and his emotions are all over the map. He thinks he sees where Cas is going with this and he’s relieved, flattered, happy, and then quickly angry. 

He rounds on the angel - _his_ angel- voice full of heat and raising in volume, “What the HELL are you thinking? Since when do you give a damn about being ‘appealing’, you’ve been in the same damn clothes since you possessed Jimmy Novak. We’ve been in this together, fighting side by side for years now and if you think that changing your face is going to do _anything_ to change how I feel about you you’re dead wrong,” he finishes in a low growl.

Castiel feels like he’s lost his grace all over again. Dean is rejecting him. He expected this, knew it would happen, but had allowed himself to hope… Stupidly. He nods, manages to to mutter “I understand,” and starts to take a deep breath in preparation to fly off, to get away from Dean, from his humiliation, when suddenly there’s a rough hand on his cheek, lifting his face to meet Dean’s eyes, beautifully green and glistening and close enough he could count the lashes framing them.

“And what in the world would make you think I’d want to give up those blue eyes?” Dean says softly, and brings his mouth to Cas’ for a tentative, gentle kiss. 

They pull apart, both smiling. Castiel starts “Dean-”

And the phone in Dean’s pocket starts ringing; Sam is calling.


	7. First Date: Gank a Ghost

“You’ve got it? Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be right there.” Dean hangs up his phone and turns to Cas. “That was Sammy. I gotta go, he has a lead on where the last vic might be and we have to get to her before she’s toast. Literally.”

“Would you like me to join you?” Cas asks

Dean smiles at him, eyes lighting up, and says, “Sure, hop in.”

It’s a short drive back to the motel but they have a couple things to go over before they get there. “Listen,” Dean says, half turning to Cas, “I don’t want to hear any more about this switching bodies nonsense, you scared the crap out of me back there. I mean, if you need a new vessel to stay alive or something then by all means, do what you’ve gotta do but in this body you’re… you’re Cas and I don’t want that to change. Secondly, we can’t tell Sam about… us… just yet. Let’s get through this case and focus on that right now and I’ll figure out how to tell him later. You ok with that?” he glances nervously at Cas in the passenger seat; he doesn’t want to hurt his feelings or seem like he’s ashamed, but he doesn't know how to bring this up with Sam. 

Castiel nods thoughtfully, “It makes sense to wait to speak with Sam about the nature of our relationship at this time. You two are in the middle of a case and need focus; we wouldn't want to jeopardize his safety by introducing a new group dynamic right now. We can wait until we’ve completed this task.”

Dean breathes a sigh of relief and smiles, taking Cas’ hand. “Good, I’m glad you understand." They drive the rest of the way to the motel with their hands linked between them, small, shy smiles on their lips.

They park at the motel and before Cas can exit the car Dean pulls him in for a slow kiss, savoring it as long as he can before they have to go back to the case, back to Sam, back to being co workers. "I didn't know angels could blush," he teases, grinning at Cas.

"Technically it's the vessel that is changing color and 'blushing', angels themselves are multidimensional wavelengths of celestial int-" Dean cut him off with another quick kiss. Castiel was totally blushing. 

They walk inside and Dean proclaims, "Look who I found! Cas here says he's on board for the rest of the case." 

Sam looks up, noticing that Cas is red, that Dean actually looks happy, and wonders if the two idiots have finally figured out how they feel about each other. He smiles and says, “Great, I have an address. Let’s get going.”

The three of them head to the Impala; brothers in the front seat and the angel in the back. Sam is telling them about the girl, an intern named Candace who works at the same law firm as the Davis guy. With a little social media browsing and a phone call or two to her roommate and a chatty law office secretary, he figured out they were seeing each other on the side. They pull up in front of the small apartment complex where Candace lives, and Dean lets out a snicker. "Look at this douchey car. Think someone is trying to prove something?" Sam walks around the Impala to see what Dean is talking about; it's a Ford Thunderbird, and the license plate reads "SPENDER." 

"That's Davis' car, he's here," Sam says. Then the shrieking started. Castiel grabs them each on the shoulder, and suddenly they're in the room with the cheating lawyer and the cute intern. Davis is looking on in horror as the girl screams, sprouting burns all over her body and choking on smoke that’s only in her lungs. Sam yells, "she has the earrings on, get them off her!" As he pulls a bag of salt out of his pocket and throws a handful at the screaming girl. The salt hits something invisible and a ghostly scream fills the apartment. Margot is there in the room. The salt makes her falter for a few seconds, and Dean jumps towards the girl, trying to get the earrings off of her as quickly as possible (not easy, they're burning hot). Sam rushes over and holds open the bag of salt for Dean to drop the earrings into; he cinches it shut while Dean turns and grabs a blanket to wrap the girl up to put out the small fires on her clothes. 

"A little help here, Cas?" Dean pants as he holds a blanket around a still-screaming Candace. Castiel is across the room instantly, pressing two fingers to her forehead. He makes her fall asleep and then heals her burns and lungs. Sam turns to Mr. Davis, who has been standing in one spot with his mouth wide open and staring this whole time. "I wish you had spoken with me at your home earlier, Mr. Davis," he says sternly, "I'll be keeping the earrings, as you can see they're not safe. And I think you'll find it wise to cease any... extramarital relationships. You never know who is watching or who is holding a grudge." 

They leave the girl asleep tucked in her bed, and deposit Mr. Davis at his car. “Go home to your wife and daughter,” Castiel tells him firmly, “I don’t think Candace will be interested in continuing your relationship.” he climbs into the back seat of the Impala, the Winchesters in the front, and they drive away, leaving a stunned lawyer in the parking lot. 

After a quick stop at the motel to pick up the supplies they head out to a rocky section of land near the river. They dump all the jewelry into the iron kettle and Sam fires up the propane torch, holding the flame on the metal until they start to break down. Dean is standing nearby with a tire iron, ready to swing at the ghost if she decides to try and stop them. Aside from some crackling and smoking and a faint scream coming from the jewelry, they don’t have any problems and soon they’re back on the road. They left the torch and melted jewelry out there on the rocks; it was harmless now, and there wasn’t enough room in the Impala to drag around every little thing they used on a case. They kept the small iron chest the jewelry was found in though; filled with salt it was a handy little ghost-proof place to put haunted or sensitive items.

In no time they’re back on the road as the sun starts to set, with Castiel still hanging out in the back seat. The brothers are both hungry, but they decide to get the hell out of that town and eat in the next one they came to. Neither one likes hanging around after a job is done; the longer you’re there the more questions you encounter. Dean is in an uncharacteristically good mood, humming along to the music and smiling, despite his best attempts to keep a straight face. Sam notices that he’d get his regular pouty scowl back in place, then he’d sneak a look in the rear view mirror at Castiel and the smile would break through again. Sam smiles to himself; it looks like they had finally figured it out. Took them long enough. “You’re looking happy, Sammy,” Dean says, glancing over at his brother, “what’s up?” 

“Oh nothing,” Sam replies, grinning, “I’m glad we’re done with the case, that’s all. I’m ready to grab some food and then some shut eye. And we’re getting two rooms tonight; I need some good rest and you’ve been snoring,” he teases, winking at Cas in the back seat. 

“Hey I do not sn-” Dean stops to think for a moment, “uh, yeah. We’ll probably both sleep better on our own tonight. Alright then.” He has a hard time keeping his eyes on the road after that because they keep flitting to his rear view mirror, locking on the blue eyes he finds there. The speedometer climbs a bit higher; he’s anxious to get to the next town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My very first fanfic; I hope you liked it!!!


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